


When You Throw A Baby in the Mix

by orphan_account



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, olicity - Freeform, pregnant olicity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-02-24 02:44:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2565404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Felicity is woken up, yet again, by Tommy's cries.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Pregnant Cravings

Oliver balanced shopping bags in his arms easily, unlocking the door and swinging it open, seeing Felicity sitting on the couch in front of him, flipping through channels. She turned towards him when he flicked his keys on the counter, a smile spreading across her face.

"Food!" She said excitedly, "Thank God, I’m starving,” she peered in the brown paper bag, her smile fading quickly.

"What’s wrong?" Oliver asked, concerned, looking in the bag, "I got everything you asked for…"

He went through the checklist she gave him.

"Mint Ice-cream," He said, and she wrinkled her nose lightly.

"Blueberry bagels," she shook her head frantically.

"Pickles?" He asked, hopeful.

"Ugh," She turned away from him, walking back to the couch, "That all looks disgusting," she said apologetically.

"That’s okay, I can go back to the store," He said immediately, and she smiled at him warmly.

"No, that’s alright. I’m being crazy—I’ve been sending you nonstop to the store for the past couple days. You would think I would’ve figured out what this little guy wants—or girl," she corrected, "I mean we don’t know yet. But I think it’s going to be a boy. What do you think? I just have this feeling about it…" She stopped suddenly, looking at Oliver greenly.

"Did you just open the pickles? I can smell them,” She said, horrified, and Oliver quickly slammed the jar shut, steering the bag away from her and looking through the fridge.

"I could make you something…" He offered, but stopped short at the empty fridge.

"Oliver, really. It’s okay. I’m not hungry anymore," She said, waving him over more insistantly to sit by her, "Thanks for going to the store."

"Of course," Oliver replied, letting her sink into him as he snatched the remote, flipping through channels. 

He put on a rerun of Friends, barely paying attention as he watched Felicity doze off against his chest.

He let his mind wander, his fingers flitting lightly over her stomach where it bulged ever so slightly. He was endlessly fascinated by pregnant Felicity—the way she smiled like crazy half the time and ranted the other half. The way she was constantly craving things, only to be completely disgusted by them the next minute. It was like her normal moods were exaggerated, and she got emotional so easily. 

He loved that she still wore her tight dresses—he could see her baby bump as clear as day. It made him happy, seeing that. Knowing that their son or daughter was right there, with them. It was those little moments that he realized he was getting it all—everything he never thought he could have.

Felicity was breathing steadily into his chest, her eyelids fluttering so beautifully against her cheeks Oliver couldn’t resist cupping her soft face in his hand.

"Felicity?" He asked, and she made a murmur in encouragement.

"This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me," He admitted in almost a whisper, suddenly needing her to know. Yes, Felicity was everything he wanted in life. But that…right there, sitting with Felicity and a baby on the way. That was more. That was everything.

As vague as his statement was, he knew Felicity understood as she smiled a sleepy grin into him, kissing his shirt and making his skin warm through the cotton. 

"Oliver?" Felicity asked quietly, eyes closed, and he leaned close, lips almost touching the crown of her hair.

"Yes, Felicity?" 

"I’m craving Chinese."


	2. What's Better than a Colicky Baby?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity is woken up, yet again, by Tommy's cries.

Felicity was awoken, yet away, by a loud wailing through the baby monitor on the table by her bed.

“Tommy,” She said groggily, exasperated. He hadn’t slept in days—and so, Felicity hadn’t slept in days. She was so tired—with Oliver busy with the latest of the big and bad in Starling City, Felicity had volunteered to stay home the last couple of nights, as little Tommy had developed a colic. 

It had kept her up every night this week.

She was sure the bags under her eyes were noticeable, her oversized pink shirt had a stain along the edge, and her hair was a crazy, curly mess but she had finally gotten Tommy to sleep after four hours of singing and cooing. And now he was up again.

She stumbled out of the empty bed, leaving the door to her room, only to come face-to-face with Oliver, who was walking in through the front door—still in his leathers, but with the hood down.

She smiled weakly at him, but her grumpy mood was quickly eased at the elated grin he gave her.

He walked towards her quickly, swooping her in a huge hug that took her off the ground and spinning her before planting a long kiss on her lips that promised more.

"What was that for?" Felicity asked with a more genuine smile, tingling from head to toe.

Oliver looked at her warmly, head cocked, “I missed you, that’s all. I hate being away from you guys.”

He took in her tired expression, putting a hand in her mess of curls to cup her head.

"Tommy?" He asked, just as another wail sounded off.

"Don’t worry," Felicity said instantly, "Go sleep. You had a long night. I’ve got it." She started to go towards Tommy’s crib, but Oliver stopped her with a quick hand on her arm.

"Can I?" Oliver said, smiling despite the ever growing cries filling the apartment, "You go get some sleep." He let his hand rest on her arm a moment before turning towards the baby’s room.

Felicity sighed, relieved and excited at the prospect of more than an hour of sleep.

She was about to sink into their warm, queen-sized bed before she halted. It felt like ages since she had seen Oliver at home—they had been constantly passing each other between shifts in the lair and with Tommy, meeting with a quick kiss in between.

She grabbed the comforter off the bed, wrapping it around her and walking towards Tommy’s room.

Felicity was about to walk in, but stopped, frozen at the doorway.

A still whimpering Tommy in Oliver’s arms with a hand up, playing with the zipper on Oliver’s suit, his cries softening as they both sat on the futon in the nursery. Oliver looked down at the tiny bundle in his arms like he had the most precious, wonderful thing in front of him. Oliver spoke quiet, soothing tones to Tommy, unaware of Felicity lingering at the doorway.

"I know you aren’t feeling all too good kiddo, but lets give Mommy a break for the night. She loves you a whole bunch, but even she gets tired sometimes," Oliver’s voice was teasing, light.

"Hard to believe, I know. She seems indestructible. She’s something, your mom. And you probably have no idea what I’m saying, and won’t remember this cause you’re just a baby right now. But when you’re older—I hope you don’t take as long as I did. When you meet a girl like your mom…you shouldn’t wait. You should appreciate her every day, kid. You better. Or I’ll kick your little ass," Oliver warned, but his tone wasn’t the least bit menacing.

Listening to Oliver’s voice, Tommy calmed, eyes wide as he stared up at him. Oliver gazed down at him, entranced for awhile, before finally looking up and meeting Felicity’s gaze.

Felicity felt her heart warm at the man in front of her—a man that had spent the entire night fighting for a city that didn’t know the real him and still came home like this. Who was still warm and caring after going through hell. Who loved with more passion than anyone she had ever known—whom she loved more than anyone she had ever known. 

She walked over to her two boys, kissing them both quickly, before sitting down next to Oliver, both of them looking at their son.

"He’s pretty cute, you know," Felicity remarked, "We did a good job."

Felicity flushed a bit, “I mean…we did good as in…” She stopped, “There’s literally no way to talk myself out of that one.” 

Oliver chuckled, grinning at her.

"We did good," He confirmed, nodding. He looked away from her, back down at the smiling bundle between them, as Felicity looked at him.

"I love you," Felicity said easily, looping her arm under Oliver’s elbow and onto Tommy’s stomach, letting him grab one of her fingers with his small hand. She rested her head on Oliver’s shoulder, sighing happily into him.

"And I love you, Felicity."


	3. You Can Say It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We needed this fluff after 3x09. Hope you guys like it!

"You can say it, baby," Felicity cooed at Tommy as he sat happily in front of her crossed legs pushing around the toy cars in front of him, "Come on—say it for Mommy."

"Ma-ma," she instructed, and he looked at her giggling.

"Twuck!" He said loudly, holding up the yellow truck in from of him, and Felicity couldn’t help but grin back at him.

"Yes! Truck!" she congratulated, before catching his attention again, "Can you say Ma-ma?"

He stared at her blankly, lifting a hand to his mouth and sucking on his fingers out of habit. She sighed, shoulders slumping.

"Felicity, he’ll say it when he’s ready," Oliver said, coming up behind them, and she watched her son’s eyes light up at his voice, reaching his arms up expectantly as Oliver came into his sights.

"Hey buddy," Oliver greeted, scooping Tommy up as he made his way to their kitchen. 

"Da-da!" Tommy answered back, and Felicity huffed a bit, trailing behind them as Oliver poured two cups of coffee, Tommy happily on his side.

"Well he knows your name,” Felicity mumbled under her breath, and Oliver just shook his head with a smile.

"Digg and Lyla want us all to come over a little bit earlier than the invitation says—Digg says he needs help putting up some outdoor tent thing Lyla insisted they get for everyone to sit under," Oliver spoke to Felicity, easily evading Tommy’s searching hands as he handed Felicity her cup of coffee, grabbing Tommy’s sippy cup and giving it to him instead.

"Hey, that tent is a great idea!" Felicity protested, "Thea even found it on sale—with everyone coming for Sara’s birthday, they won’t all be able to fit in the house, and it’s supposed to be really hot today."

Oliver hid his rolling eyes, knowing no matter what, they were going to have to put that damn tent up, even though, as usual, everyone would end up crammed into the kitchen and living room, chattering over food and football while the kids roamed in the yard. It was a useless argument, and Oliver had learned after four years with Felicity that most of the time it was just easier to do what she said.

"I know, I know," Oliver agreed, before turning his attention back to Tommy, "You wanna see Sara today?"

"Sawa!" he exclaimed, nodding excitedly, causing Oliver to chuckle.

"I packed a bag with all of his stuff, and I put a change of clothes in there in case he gets messy playing or something," Oliver said, slinging the bag over his shoulder, "Do we need anything else?"

Felicity snorted a laugh, “Not that I can think of,” she smirked.

"What?" he asked at her tone.

"You’re such a mom,” Felicity laughed, hitting his arm teasingly.

"I just want to make sure we have everything!" He protested, but his lips lifted in a smile.

"You’re so controlling,” she mocked.

"If I wasn’t, Tommy would be pants-less half the time," Oliver said.

"He’s two—who care’s if he has pants on or not?" She asked, hand on her hip.

"No pants," Tommy chimed in, and Felicity pointed at him in victory.

"See! He doesn’t even like them!"

"You can’t use our son’s aversion to pants as an argument!" Oliver laughed back, making his way to the door as Felicity shrugged on her heels.

"I’m just saying, a baby-diaper-butt isn’t something that anyone is grossed out seeing. Everybody loves baby-butts. Not loving baby-butt’s is like not liking… puppies.”

"I don’t like puppies," Oliver responded.

"Yes, well, you’re weird," Felicity said.

"They pee a lot and chew on things—cat’s are better."

"But puppies cuddle with you! And you can play with them!" Felicity said passionately and Oliver tried not to laugh at her being worked up over puppies.

"How did we even get on this subject?" he wondered, glancing around the room for anything they were forgetting.

"I don’t even know—" She said, before smacking a hand to her face, "I forgot my purse!"

She scurried to grab it in their bedroom before walking quickly towards where he held the front door open for her.

As she walked through, he grabbed her swinging hand, pulling her towards him.

She kissed him back easily, sighing into him.

"I love you," Oliver said, smiling against her lips.

"And I love you," she answered.

"Me too! Me too!" Tommy chimed in, arms outstretched to Felicity.

"Come here," She said, grabbing him from Oliver and littering his face with kisses until he was in a fit of giggles.

"Ready?" Oliver asked, locking the door behind them.

"Ready."


End file.
